


Stag/Quiver

by Auber_Gine_Dreams



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Hannibal - Freeform, M/M, implied infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27240037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auber_Gine_Dreams/pseuds/Auber_Gine_Dreams
Summary: He expects a show. Dinner, lavish and delicious, dessert and wine and witty quips about how Jaebum always knew he would be back. He expects Jaebum to dance around the real reason he’s here until he can’t do it anymore. Instead, Jaebum grabs his wrist and tugs him down the hall without a word.(As if there is a need for that, now. As if Jinyoung hasn’t always been following him, willingly, into the dark).--It's the 2020 Halloween Special
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung
Comments: 12
Kudos: 47





	Stag/Quiver

**Author's Note:**

> So here's what happened. I watched Hannibal. I talked to Almay. She sent me this very specific photo of Jinyoung and I was struck with the horrible realization that you can Hannigram JJP. 
> 
> I think this will be a lot more...devastating? Make more sense? if you've actually seen the show, but if you give it a try and have no idea what's going on thank you and I love you. There are also SPOILERS for the show all over the place. 
> 
> While no one is eaten on screen, **DISCUSSIONS OF CANNIBALISM** do occur. Please click out if this is something that will upset you. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy my yearly Halloween fun!! A big thank you to the Hags for listening to me scream about this for weeks <33 Title is from "The Stag and The Quiver" by Richard Siken.

_They watch each other, they share no story._ _  
__I will not cross you and you must move on. There is nothing else._ _  
__It reminds me of some tale, stay with me to remember,_ _  
__it reminds me of where I was going without you._

  
  


Jinyoung has not slept for three days. His clothes are rumpled, hair disheveled and glasses tossed carelessly on his desk. He hasn’t shaved, either. His dreams are plagued with blood and death, more vivid than it’s been in years. That’s the thing about the way he thinks. A blessing to victims. A curse to himself. But this is not his life anymore, not since he moved to the lake house. Not since he told Taecyeon to go fuck himself.

Somewhere between his brain being on fire and his blood pooling around him from his slit open abdomen, something changed. Somewhere between leaving the hospital and settling into a life, a _real_ life, with Jackson, Jinyoung realizes two things. First, he is no longer the soft-spoken teacher he once was. He is someone else, now. Someone who, in spite of all of his efforts, cannot forget about the man who almost ended his life. 

( _I let you know me. See me._ The words echo like a dream he can’t shake _._ )

Play a part for long enough and it becomes impossible to separate yourself from it. Character bleed, they call it. Park Jinyoung, and Jinyoung, the killer. It’s easier to blame it on his brain, some ghostly haze of encephalitis. Like a slideshow, he can see the two versions of himself. Here is Jinyoung pointing a gun at a killer. Here is Jinyoung slicing herbs while a killer roasts vegetables in rosemary butter. Here is Jinyoung, arm thrown over Jackson’s warm body in their house by the lake. Here is Jinyoung pinning a killer to the sheets, teeth sinking into the tender flesh of his neck while he cries out in pleasure. It’s hard to tell at what point they blur together.

( _I gave you a rare gift, but you didn’t want it._ In the dream he shakes his head. No. No.)

The end is coming. Jinyoung knows it, has known since Europe that there is only one path left for him. He has tried to delude himself for months. If he just ignores it. If he spends more time outside. If he buries his face in Jackson’s neck and forgets about everything else. And it was fine for a while. It really was, but then the dreams came back.

In their bedroom, he presses a kiss to Jackson’s temple. He wonders if he will stay here after Jinyoung is gone. Will it be too hard to look at the life they had? Or does Jackson know, deep down, that no matter how much Jinyoung loves him there are pieces of him missing, carved out, that can never belong to anyone else?

(In the dream, his voice chokes out around a mouthful of blood. _Didn’t I?_ )

  
  
  


He finds Jaebum in the house by the sea. To call it _their house_ leaves a sickly sweet taste in his mouth. It is harsh angles and glass windows. It is the sound of Jaebum’s breathing. It is Yugyeom, too, though it wasn’t until later that Jinyoung knew he was ever here at all. _Their house_. He tries to shake himself free but it all remains, scarred into his mind, his body. 

Jinyoung raises his fist to knock and the door opens. Jaebum’s hair is longer, hanging almost to his shoulders. His suit is sapphire blue and hand tailored in a way that shows every bit of his body off without showing anything at all. There is a silver cross around his neck set just in the opening of his jacket. Jinyoung’s mouth is dry as he steps inside. 

He expects a show. Dinner, lavish and delicious, dessert and wine and witty quips about how Jaebum always knew he would be back. He expects Jaebum to dance around the real reason he’s here until he can’t do it anymore. Instead, Jaebum grabs his wrist and tugs him down the hall without a word. 

( _As if there is a need for that, now. As if Jinyoung hasn’t always been following him, willingly, into the dark_ ).

The bed takes up most of the room. It faces away from the door, exposed to the full moon shining onto the cliffs, onto the sea. The floor to ceiling windows make the heating bill outrageous in winter, but Jaebum has never been opposed to spending money if he thinks something is worth it. They make it to the wall beside the bed before Jaebum backs him against it. The air is so thick Jinyoung could choke on it, heavy and hot in the back of his throat. It reminds him of choking on his own blood.

Jaebum hasn’t spoken a single word to him, but he’s never really needed to. Jinyoung still remembers Jaebum sitting across from him over breakfast. The easy, sure way he quipped back _you will_ when Jinyoung told him _I don’t find you that interesting_. He takes his hand off Jinyoung’s wrist and brings it straight to his button down, pulling it free from his pants efficiently, his body moving closer to Jinyoung’s with a practiced kind of ease. There is little emotion in the movement but Jinyoung is tingling all over, anticipation maybe. Or fear. Or something worse.

Jaebum’s hands are fire on his skin, fingers tracing over the scar on his abdomen. He hums, breath warm on Jinyoung’s ear, leg moving between his thighs like they’ve done this a thousand times. ( _Only once, before the bloodbath in the kitchen, when Jinyoung thought it would be the only chance he'd ever get_ ). 

“It’s healed nicely,” Jaebum says. He presses his fingers against the raised skin like he’s testing the integrity, like he’s trying to open him up again. 

Jinyoung gasps, hands going still against Jaebum’s belt, half way to pulling it free from his slacks. He knows his hands started moving when Jaebum’s did, but it's still a shock to realize how quickly this is happening.

“I’ve never been in so much pain,” Jinyoung breathes. “I was in the hospital for months.”

Jaebum nips at the shell of his ear, presses his thigh against his groin. 

“We both know that’s a lie, Jinyoungie.”

And it _is_ a lie. Jinyoung has been shot and he has been gutted and nothing has ever sunk claws so deep his vision went black like seeing Jaebum behind a plexiglass wall, straight jacket and muzzle over his mouth like some kind of beast. Like knowing that he put him there. 

Jaebum’s hands wander around to the small of his back, fingers toying with the waistband of his slacks. His nose is cold against his cheek, a slow drag until they are face to face, hungry eyes and perfect mouth, lips always faintly red. Arousal makes him dizzy. Jinyoung wants him so bad he can’t breathe.

Jaebum kisses him at the same time his hands slide into his slacks and over his ass, the combination of hot mouth and wide palms making Jinyoung groan. Jaebum kisses the same way that he does most everything: practiced, skill at the level of mastery. Like he has kissed Jinyoung every day for two lifetimes, like he knows Jinyoung better than he knows anything else. Jinyoung’s breath catches. He slips his tongue into Jaebum’s mouth and squeezes his waist, brings his hands back down to his belt to work it free and drop it to the floor. 

Jinyoung tugs him closer by his belt loops and tilts his head so their mouths slot together better. _This is my design_ , he thinks dizzily, when Jaebum hums and goes along with him. There is enough energy inside of him to power a small town, and the only place for it to go is into Jaebum. His blood rushes in his ears, loud and hot, and he loses himself to the feeling. 

“Does your husband know you’re here?” Jaebum asks when they break apart, walking backward toward the bed. His hands are still on Jinyong’s ass. He has no choice but to follow. 

“Jackson knows I have unfinished business,” Jinyoung says, stilted and breathless. “He’s not my husband.”

Jaebum hums, freeing a hand to catch Jinyoung’s left, to glide over the band on his finger. “Right. My mistake.”

Jaebum falls backward and pulls Jinyoung on top of him in one easy motion. The duvet is down and the sheets are Egyptian cotton. Everything is luxurious in a way Jinyoung has rarely experienced in his life, but all he can focus on is the strong, lean line of Jaebum’s body beneath him. His heart is strong, steady and even. He doesn’t expect anything different. 

Time is strange whenever he is with Jaebum. It is a slow, methodical thing to watch him unbutton his shirt. It is a desperate, rushed thing when they’re both naked, when Jinyoung takes him in his mouth and Jaebum’s fingers tangle in his hair. 

“Do you think about fucking when you kill?” Jaebum pants, hand going tight in Jinyoung’s hair. The feeling and the words make him tingle all over, hot and cold. “Or do you think about killing when you fuck? What are you thinking about right now?”

“We both know that’s not what it is,” Jinyoung huffs when he comes up to answer. Jaebum’s eyes are dark, an amused smile on his lips. It should be killing the mood. It’s not. It’s infuriating and unbearably sexy. Jinyoung gets back to work and Jaebum relents, falling against the pillows and enjoying the hard work Jinyoung is putting in to get him off. 

When Jaebum comes it’s with a hitched breath, his body going tight and then boneless beneath him. He has the best tasting come Jinyoung has ever had, but this is something he will take to his grave, something he can never admit out loud. His refractory period, too, is nearly inhuman. Jinyoung has barely swallowed and straightened his back when Jaebum meets his eyes again.

“When you fucked Jackson did you think about me?”

He refuses to respond when they both already know the answer. Jinyoung catches the lube Jaebum tosses to him and takes his frustration out by tugging him closer by his thighs. The way he is unaffected is maddening, a challenge he keeps coming back to over and over. To affect Jaebum the way Jaebum affects him. The problem is he’s trained himself out of that kind of human reaction, or maybe the truth is he’s just not capable of it. Or maybe Jinyoung doesn’t know him at all. Maybe it’s right there, staring him in the face, in the way Jaebum’s eyes go wide and his cock stirs to life again.

“Why are you still playing games?” Jinyoung breathes, anger hot and familiar and easy in his chest. “I’m here. After everything, I’m still here, aren’t I? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Oh, Jinyoung,” he says, sitting up to cup Jingyoung’s cheek with a gentleness he never seems capable of but always reaches effortlessly, “Of course it’s what I want. It’s just so interesting to rile you up. I think I know what you’re going to do, but then you surprise me. I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of it.”

“I think we’re well past the stage of being tired of each other,” Jinyoung says. The words catch in his throat, hoarse somehow. Being with Jaebum is a little like being gutted all the time, words and feelings, thoughts ripped out or pouring out between his fingers. It’s a special kind of controlled chaos. Everything is fine if he concentrates on right here, right now. 

“We are,” Jaebum agrees. He hooks a leg around Jinyoung’s waist. “I want you inside of me. It’s been far too long.”

He’s not surprised to find Jaebum has prepped himself. Two fingers slide in easily, three with no work at all. He takes a little time with it because he can, finds Jaebum’s prostate, hones in and strokes him there until he’s hard and flushed between his legs, until he’s almost pink in the cheeks. 

He takes his fingers out and slicks up his cock. Jinyoung hisses at the contact. He’s so hard it’s painful, every nerve firing at once when he lines up and pushes inside. Jaebum arches his back, rolls his hips to meet him. They find a rhythm easily, as easy as everything has been between them since their first meeting (easier still since Jinyoung stopped lying to himself, but there’s no time to dwell on that now).

“I want you all the time,” Jinyoung says, breath shuddering out of him. He leans down and kisses him, twining their tongues together, fucking his mouth in time to his thrusts. When they break apart he shudders, burying his face in the crook of Jaebun’s neck. “I want you even when I have you.”

Jaebum makes a sound that’s almost a moan. He squeezes Jinyoung’s hips between his thighs. “I feel the same. Maybe you don’t believe that, but it’s the truth. I’ve never lied to you, Jinyoung.”

He nods, almost delirious. He’s about to pick up the pace when Jaebum grips his shoulders and pushes until they’ve changed places, Jinyoung flat on his back and Jaebum above him, hand braced on his chest for leverage. Jaebum spreads his thighs and rolls his hips down against him and it’s like all the air is gone from the room. 

“It would never be enough to eat you, Jinyoung, do you know that?” And he nods, because he _does_ know. It’s something he came to understand when Jaebum’s knife ripped through his abdomen and they fell into an embrace, Jaebum cradling his body as life left him. Jaebum works his hips faster, arching his back. He looks sculpted in the moonlight, each muscle tenderly created. He’s beautiful. “I don’t want something so singular.”

Jinyoung is so close he can taste it. He snaps his hips up hard enough that Jaebum has to grip his shoulder, then he does it again. His breath shudders out of him. 

“I want to consume you.” Jaebum moans, his chest flushed pink. “And you want to consume me.”

Jinyoung’s vision explodes when he comes. Fireworks, or television snow, or the fuzzy place you go before you die. The sound of his heartbeat drowns out everything else. Jaebum works him through it, and once he has the awareness he reaches down and strokes him, too, until his come hits Jinyoung’s chest. 

It doesn’t feel less urgent, after. Jinyoung expects that with sex out of the way he will feel more level-headed. Jaebum slides off of him and onto the bed. He’s breathing hard, his chest slick with sweat, and Jinyoung is still just as urgent for him. He rolls onto his side and Jaebum turns to mirror him. 

“I have dinner in the oven,” Jaebum says. There’s a small smile on his face. He’s pleased. Happy, even. “It should be almost ready. We can clean up while it rests.”

There is a flash in the soft glow after orgasm, like a dream. In some other reality, they are living together in this house by the sea. Jaebum runs his practice out of the corner office and Jinyoung is a professor at the university instead of consulting with the FBI. They celebrate trivial anniversaries and Jaebum kisses the weariness of a long day from his brow and everything is good. It’s perfect.

It’s....a little boring, actually. 

Jaebum rolls off the bed and pads down the hall. He doesn’t bother with clothes. Jinyoung takes him in shamelessly. When he comes back he’s cloaked in the scent of herbs, basil and thyme, maybe. Jinyoung’s palette still isn’t very sophisticated. He holds out his hand, beckoning. Jinyoung sits up, stretches, and takes the five steps forward to reach him. Their fingers thread together like they are made that way, like there has never been space between them at all.

From there they have a warm shower, a quiet dinner, some easy conversation. He’s missed this. Later still, in bed, Jinyoung finds himself awake. The sound of his heart is quieter, now, a comfortable sixty beats per minute. Somewhere in the realm that Jaebum sits at permanently. 

“I’ve never known myself as well as I know myself when I’m with you,” Jinyoung whispers, barely a breath. Jaebum is asleep, arms tucked under his head. The moonlight glitters across his skin. The litany of scars that cover his torso are silvery, almost magical. Jinyoung only knows a few of them. Here is where Jaebum was shot. Here is where Jaebum was stabbed with a pocket knife, a pig for slaughter. He wonders about the rest, if Jaebum will ever share all those hidden parts of himself. Jinyoung has been an open book since the beginning, everything right in Jaebum’s reach, but he can’t say he’s ever really minded it. 

They can’t stay here. Not together. There are two paths, both clear, both easy in their own way. The cliffs behind the house, the sea beyond. Jinyoung wonders if they could survive a fall, where they would go if they had new names, a clean slate. The other path leads back to his house, to Jackson and their dogs, to Jaebum back in that plexiglass cell. 

He’s not a person playing a part, anymore. And maybe he never has been. It’s a truth he hasn’t allowed himself to think about much. The path he’s chosen is blood and salt, the pain of the knife and the inky darkness of death. Jinyoung has come to learn that blood is sweet, that there are things forbidden and pleasurable that cannot be given up so easily, that Jaebum only cooks the best meals for the people he loves. 

Youngjae asked him once, _do you ache for him_?

When he sees him again, he’ll give his answer. _Not anymore_. 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween :D
> 
> A quick note! If you were curious about who I cast as who and weren't really sure from quick cameos:  
> Obviously Jaebum Hannibal Jinyoung Will, Yugyeom is Abigail (I'm sorry T_T), Jackson is Molly, and Youngjae is Dr. Du Maurier!
> 
> [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/woncheoling) // [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/tsukkitaeil)


End file.
